I was about 5 years old when my dad helped in the construction of the the Yankee Nuclear Powerplant in Vernon, Vermont. For me, it was the summer that never ended. Our family was like gypsies, as we followed my dad on various construction jobs throughout Vermont and New York. Dad would have his work truck that towed the camper, while mom and us kids followed him around in a Dodge Seneca station wagon that he had converted into a pickup. The cut open space in the back that dad created was covered with plywood panels, including the roof. This is where us kids traveled and sometimes slept. One day mom got a hold of the old Dodge while dad was gone. She surrounded the edge of the roof with red ball fringe and put flower stickers on the hood of the faded blue hippy mobile. Old Blue as it was affectionatley called, got many a peace signs as we rolled into towns, both far and wide.
Perhaps this is why I love to travel and explore Vermont so much. Being part of the Vermont 251 Club is just a natural fit for me. Anyway, somehow my dad found a small parcel of land to rent for the summer, from a farmer in Putney. We planted our camper in the shade and made it our summer home. My memories consisted of riding bikes, sleeping in a small pop tent with my 2 older brothers and a beagle named Sugar Plum, and visiting a rock quarry, where the hippies from the nearbye college would swim bollicki bear-ass. At my age, I was still running around naked, so this was all natural to me.
Not only were my folks gypsies, but mom and dad had a habit of taking in stangers down on their luck and nursing them back to health. What this usually meant; was that dad would bring home a new acquaintance and sometimes their family. It wasn't unusual for dad at the time to get them drunk by the campfire. Mom would feed them dinner and try to clean them up for a decent breakfast in the morning. Dodging human landmines in the morning was not a surprise to us kids. Dad found it humorous, while mom; who came from a large disfunctional family, continued her role as caretaker. Us kids just rolled with it, and made friends with whomever came our way. There was no judgement or chastizement. Oh the innocense of childhood! As disfuctional as this may seem, I think this is what prepared me for how to accept people as an adult today
There are so many more memories, that over the years, I have developed a longing to locate that place of freedom; where summer never ended. Ann and I have made several attempts, with little luck. In late fall of 2023, we completed visiting all the towns in the Vermont 251 Club. Since our club membership was still active, we decided to do it again. There was so much more that we wanted to do, or experience in each town. One of them was to camp at Fort Dummer State Park in Guilford. It's our desire to camp at every Vermont State Park as well, so this was a perfect scenario. Fort Dummer became our 45th State Park out of 52 that we have either spent a day at or camped overnight.
As of this entry, Fort Dummer is the only camping trip we have planned for 2024. A torn meniscus and health issues with my 90 year old mom has us pretty close to home. We were going to make the best of the little time we were given. Rest areas on the interstate are our favorite spots for us to stretch our legs and to refill our coffee cups. It can also be a place to get statewide info such as farmers markets. It was our good fortune to learn that Brattleboro, which is north of Guilford, was having a farmers market on the Saturday that we were traveling down. Putney, which is north of Brattleboro was having theirs on Sunday. Our plans for new experiences in each town was coming along nicely, and we were only at the Randolph rest area, 100 miles away
It was Memorial Day weekend and the weather was perfect for being outside. This became evident when we rolled into the farmers market, off of Route 9. waiting for a parking spot required patience. The market is not dog friendly, so Ann and I had to take turns while the other waited with Tucker in the AC of our FJ Cruiser. Bacon and eggs are a camping staple for me, and we had no eggs. Seeing a dozen of duck eggs for sale, took me back to the days of having ducks ourselves. Granny ( mom ) swore by duck eggs, especially for baking. Her cakes and cookies were the most moist and most delicious around. Of course, I had to support the locals, and buy a dozen duck eggs. It was a relaxing walk and enjoyable to watch people enjoying the free music in the shade.
Pulling into Fort Dummer was a delight. The Ranger ( Leslie ?) was especially gracious and kind, as she tried to assist the line of people checking in. After the rain soaked episodes of camping in 2023, we opted for a leanto. Hemlock sat on a hill and was facing the woods. This was going to be an easy set up and we were happy to set up camp. Tucker; our Border Collie, circled the perimeter on his leash, and gave it his approval with one back leg up. It didn't take him long to make himelf to home.
We had a very busy Spring, with very little time to relax. Setting up the reclining camp chairs in front of the fire was received with an ephatic Aaaaaah! Our evening plans were sporatically planned from the comfort of our chairs. One plan was to paint rocks with 251 on them and drop them off in all 252 Vermont towns. ( Essex Junction became Vermont's 10th city on July 1, 2022, making 252 towns in an already established 251 club ) Ann set out all the materials on the picnic table and made a few swipes of the brush. Ann is admittedly craft illiterate, so this was like seeing a fish out of water.
I purposely let the fire go down so that I could bake a cookie for us to share. Santa had given me a cookie mix in a cast iron skillet for Christmas, and I thought this would be a good time to use it. Ann and I stired up the ingredients, and poured them into the skillet. Things got creative from here. Even with a reduced flame, it was still too hot. I had to think fast. I deflected the heat with another flat skillet underneath. That seemed to slow things down, but now I was concerned the top wouldn't get crisp. So I took a bigger skillet and put it over the top to keep the heat from escaping. It took some quick innovations but the end product was dleicious. I have learned that it takes 3 skillets to make a good camp cookie! Granny who loves to cook outside with cast iron would be so proud! We split the cookie in half and considered it our desert.
We decided to walk off dinner and take Tucker for a hike on the Sunset trail. Others from the campground joined us. We were a diverse group. My childhood training in Putney, and Ann's natural ability to love allowed us to enjoy one anothers company until the sun set at 8:17. Tucker greeted everyone with his usual request for hugs. Never to bashful about stretching out to relax, I layed down on the unoccupied picnic table, only to have Tucker join me. The sunset was a dissapointment but the time in the woods with new friends was well worth it.
The weather that night was cool, and perfect for gathering around the campfire and a good nights rest. Tucker and I woke up early and decided to bookend our hikes with a hike on the Sunrise Loop Trail. "T" was all to happy to be off his leash. Letting him explore at his leisure gave us both some freedom. When we got back, ole sleepy head was still sawin' logs. We gave ourselves permission to be slow getting ready for the day. Taking the pressure off seemed to make the bacon, pancake and duck egg breakfast all that more enjoyable.
Putney and the farmers market was first on our list of new things to do in the town. We were happy to see that it was dog friendly. We have always had dogs as pets, but we are new to bringing them into public places, such as this. All the dog owners were friendly, and several parent came up to ask if their child could pet Tucker. Tucker loves the "littles" and was all too happy to ablige. The Putney Farmers Market is rather small, but healthy smoothies while we walked around seemed like the right thing to do. A man selling mushrooms; the non halucinigetic kind, had a beautiful display of Lions Mane for sale. I was intrigued by it's mental health benefits and inquired about how to cook it. He had me at "sere each side like a steak". I walked off with a half pound in a brown paper bag. I was beginning to feel the hippy vibe that I remeber this town being famous for as a kid.
This lead us to our next adventure. We were off to find my summer gypsie home, and where summer never ends. At first I pointed Brutas, our FJ Cruiser by instinct. My instinct lead us to a nice lady standing by the road. I seldom have the courage to ask for directions and such, but today was different. Diffferent indeed, this nice lady was new to the area and could barely help us out. Just my luck! I finally get the nerve to ask for directions and I end up with someone new to the area. This garnered a laugh from my semi amused wife! As we drove blindly through the backroads of Putney, we came to Quarry Rd. Odly, I never saw this on any of the maps I ever looked at. This was beginning to be encouraging.
Our detectives skills were beginning to kick in. On a backroad named Quarry Rd stood no parking signs. We had to be close. We drove up one end, and down the other, and saw no evidence of a quarry. Down a long driveway was man stacking wood. I ventured to ask one more time. My bravery and persitence paid off in spades! Ann and I introduced ourselves to Fred Robley and we began a conversation that was reminicent of my dad. Bud as he was called, was never afraid to pull into a strangers yard, pop the hood on an old clunker sitting in the yard, and carry on a conversation with the owner. The owner, as I remember it, always seemed to be bare chested, wearing denim jeans and sporting a beer in his hand. Dad would always find something in common with the ole boy. It seemed like they would talk for hours. I sat in the car with Sugar Plumb, our pudgey beagle and listened to every word. It was probably a stop like this that got us our summer home in Putney.
Fred was very helpful in telling us about the quarry and how to access it. It is litterally across the road from his house. He also gave us some helpful hints as to where we might find our once summer home. In the spirit of my dad, Ann and I engaged in a long lost art form called human interaction. It's pretty cool! From it, we learned that Fred lead a very interesting life. As a young man, Fred sold T shirts for the Marshall Tucker Band and later became their tour manager. How does that happen? Fred went on to manage several big name acts such as James Taylor, Eric Clapton and Ted Nugent. Fred also gave us the skinny on where Boston Red Sox legend, Ted Williams once lived, in Westminster, Vt. Since it was down the road we would have to check Westminster off our list, and add Ted's homestead to new things done in that town
Once we finally pulled away, we found a safe place to park and skipped through a trail in the woods. The quarry is privatley owned and equipped for summer fun. It was unrecognizable until I walked closer to the quarry's edge. As I peered down, I could see a flat ledge that I remember swimming on while dad and a co worker Moe, dangled their feet off it's edge. Several memoreis came to mind. One was of Dad and Moe laughing histerically, after a naked hippy chic jumped over their heads, and into the water before them. It's probably why they went up there in the first place! The other memory was schools of fish swimming slowly by. I remember them being huge. At that moment a small school swam up to us, as if to confirm my suspisions. They were smaller than I remeber, but when you are small everything seems big.
Memories filled my mind like the water that fills the quarry. The owners son showed up and we engaged in that human interaction thing again. It was obvious that he was a little anoyed by us being on his property. We explained our conversation with Fred and that seemed to gain us some passage rights. We talked for a bit about the quarry and it's history. I could have stayed longer but I was anxious to find the place where we called home. We slowly traveled north on Pine Banks Road and found what could have been the area where we camped. Houses planted in the trees kept me from completley identifying the area. There was no evidence of the stone wall my brother Everett built. Everett dedicated his time building a rock fortress that kept us, the dog and our new tent safe. We graduated from the small tent when dad saw our feet hanging out the front one chilly morning. I remeber that area being loaded with ferns and being in a shallow gully. Our tent site was on the only high point, making us feel like we were on top of the world. And we were! The only other thing that could have distinguished our campsite from any other plot of land, would have been a plumb tree my dad planted near the camper. I was satisfied that we were close to the "old home place" when I saw the area covered with green ferns.
We fisished the afternoon by driving by Ted Williams home and having a picnic at Dutton Pines State Park. This is no longer an active campground managed by the state. Instead, it is a day park with a pavilion and hiking trails. This allowed us to check off the town of Dumerston where we placed our 251 rock as we left. Relaxing at our leanto with a fire was short lived as we felt inspired to take in a free concert at the park in Putney. Taking in the community vibe with a concert was high on Ann's list since the last time we visited.
We were reluctant to bring Tucker, because we were not sure the event was dog friendly or not. In a subsequent drivebye, Ann pointed out a few dogs with their owners. Ole T had his nose to the window, and his tail was wagging like crazy. He seemed as excited to take in the show, and make friends, as we were about catching the community vibe. The Stockwell Brothers were already playing when we pulled up our lawn chairs and cooler. After making friends, Tucker took in the show in Ann's lap. It was apparent that there was a dynamic demogrphics in the crowd, but there were many who were older than us, which raised the question; which hippy chic jumped over dad and Moe at the quarry on that bolicki- bear ass day?
The weather was perfect for a concert on the green. It was hard to pull up stakes and head back to camp but we wanted to get a good nights rest. Our trip home involved a short trip south to Vernon, which is probably the farthest town away from us. It is the most southeast town, while Swanton is close to being the most Northwest town. It would be silly not to visit this town, sicne we were only 6 or 7 miles away. Our random search to find a place to eat in Vernon was for not, as the only place, Uncle Jessy's was closed. Our surprise of the day was finding Lily Pond Heritage site.
Lily Pond is home to a unique natural community, an outwash plain pondshore the only such natural habitat in Vermont. Located in an area of glacial outwash with deep sand and gravel deposits, the water level in the pond can fluctuate significantly over the seasons and from year to year. This results in a unique community of vegetation that is adapted to the fluctuation water levels.
Among the plants, all rare in Vermont, that can be found at the pond's shore are three-way sedge, olive spikerush, pipewort, brownfruit rush, meadow beauty, golden pert, toothed cyperus, and autumn fibristylis. Many bird varieties including great blue herons frequent the pond.
Lily Pond was not the only surprise in Vernon. Always looking for new way back, I decided to cross over on Broad Brook Rd., which tickles the Guilford town line. It was on this winding narrow road, closed in by heavy vegetation, that we came across a spectaclar water fall. Broad Brook slips through Guilford and Fort Dummer but we were unable to visit that area during our stay because of rain. We were told that the falls were prettier down the road. I'm glad we found the road less traveled.
We already dropped our custom painted 251 rocks in Fort Dummer, Brattleboro Farmers Market and Lily Pond. We didnt have any prepared for Putney or Westmisnter when we went through, so we had to stop and drop on our way home, in order to make it official for us. The Putney Farmers Market received our gift but Westminster, up the road on US Rt. 5, was going to be a little different. Westminster is one of those towns that we basically drove through the last time. We wanted more than a driveby of Ted Williams home or to drive through town. At the Westminster Town Hall stood a monument tributing William Czar Bradley. It is here that we left our little 251 rock.
Bradley, we learned, served three terms as U.S. Represenative
from Vermont, from 1813 to 1815, then again from 1823 to 1827. Bradley's law office in Westminster was deeded to the State of Vermont in 1998. Bradley used the law office from 1810 until his retirement in 1858; the law office had been undisturbed until it was deeded to the state. In July 2001 The William Czar Bradley Law Office was opened to the public.
Now that we had placed our final 251 marker, we could go home knowing we picked off 5 towns and had new experiences in each one. The greatest experience was locating that old quarry and our summer gypsy home. Next, was having some good old fashioned human, face to face interaction, that I remebered as a child. Reliving those memories and bringing them home to my 90 year old mom, who is currently rehabilitating from a fall, brought a gleam to her eye and smiles on our faces.
As we sit out mom's final years, and contemplate our own, l realize how important face to face human interaction really is, how important memories are, and the need to relive them. I have become grateful for the lessons they have taught us, and the person's they have shaped us to be, and this is why I write and
take pictures.
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